


Hui or...?

by belatedwannable



Category: ONF (Band), Pentagon (Korea Band), 로드 투 킹덤 | Road to Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, Insecurity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:01:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25461349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belatedwannable/pseuds/belatedwannable
Summary: Seungjun said exactly what he was supposed to say, but insecurities abound in Hwitaek's mind.
Relationships: Lee Hwitaek | Hui/Lee Seungjoon | J-US
Comments: 2
Kudos: 41





	Hui or...?

Hwitaek is used to this feeling. He’s used to being the runner-up, in people’s votes and minds and hearts. He’s stood on so many stages, clapped for so many winners, and made thousands of sacrifices along the way. From Hyojong’s revelation that he was going to make a new start elsewhere to trailing other teams throughout the competition show, he knows what it’s like to be less than the first priority. He’s accepted it, resigned himself to it, so why does it hurt so much this time?

“Hui or…” is the name of the game they play in the brief exchange, so brief that he could blink and miss it, but luck’s never been in his favor and he sees Seungjun easily put his group members first with a smile on his face and a bounce in his seat. This is expected. It’s normal. The pain will pass.

Group loyalty comes first. Hwitaek is a _leader_. He knows this like the back of his hand, like a tattoo he’ll never get. The only exception to that rule is when said group is trying to flatter its way into a certain performance position, then all bets are off and Hyunggu can say whatever he pleases. It achieved the desired results.

His mind, however, is unkind and seizes upon the opportunity to tell Hwitaek that every doubt has been confirmed by Seungjun on his screen. _He’s ashamed of you. You don’t deserve him. You never did. You’ll always be inferior. Why would anyone risk anything for you?_ And he curls up on his studio sofa in the corner, ready for a long night of fending off demons that have been haunting him for years.

That night, after mental battles that have left him drained, Hwitaek dreams of Seungjun, of a sweet voice telling him that he’s loved and he matters and he’s worth more than just a quick hook-up and skinship for the cameras. He sees hands reaching out for his own, the reassuring heat and weight of another person between his arms, between his legs. But as soon as he touches any of the apparitions, they disappear, leaving him alone once more. He wakes up in tears, frustrated at himself and his seeming inability to be enough for anyone.

He checks his phone first thing and sees a few messages from Seungjun. Easy things, pleasantries. Maybe he dreamed the whole unpleasant business of last night. Perhaps he can make himself believe that just for a bit. It turns out that he’s too good at finding things on the Internet and the clip is the first thing he hears that day. It continues playing in his mind as the hours pass, turning into the entire day, the longest he’s gone without talking to Seungjun since they began their...whatever.

It’ll be fine. They’re both busy. It’s not as if Hwitaek is worth waiting by the phone for. He’s known among his members for never responding. Seungjun will get used to it.

This sentiment is much more difficult to tell Seungjun himself when he shows up at Hwitaek’s studio door with fried chicken in his hand and a tired smile on his face. Hwitaek makes a mental note to scold Yuto at practice tomorrow for letting him in without asking first.

“You weren’t answering your phone,” Seungjun says simply, as if that's all the explanation Hwitaek needs.  
  


“I do that sometimes. That doesn’t mean I require visitors,” Hwitaek counters, letting him in and trying not to let his exhaustion show. He puts on a brave face, having trained for this moment, heartbreak by heartbreak. He doesn’t want Seungjun to have to let him down gently. He doesn’t want Seungjun to know he’s let him down at all.

Seungjun knows too much for his own good. He can tell that there’s something stiffer, more formal about Hwitaek’s posture. One glance at the corner and Seungjun knows he slept in the studio. One glance at the computer screen and Seungjun freezes in his tracks, just barely keeping his grip on the box of chicken. He realizes the reason for the shift and his fear is confirmed. _It was me. I’m the reason he didn’t respond._

He sits down on the sofa and sets the food to the side, patting the spot beside him for Hwitaek to sit too. “Hyung, we should talk.”

“We are talking, Seungjunie.” Though he tries to keep his tone light and playful, Hwitaek looks tired, older than he actually is. He’s only two years older than Seungjun, but the tension in his shoulders would be enough for someone twenty years beyond that and Seungjun would do anything to take some of that away.  
  


“That’s not what I meant. I have something to say. I think you’re amazing.”

Hwitaek looks at him, startled. He’s already anticipating the “but” that’s coming after that statement, the part that tells him that there are more important people, places, and things than him and his stupid heart.

Seungjun never gives him the “but”. Instead, he says, “I may say things for the camera and for my members. And you know what that’s like. We’ve been through a lot together and they’re my forever family. I’d sacrifice everything for them.”

He reaches forward to take Hwitaek’s hand, tipping his chin up with his other fingers to make sure he’s looking at him. “I have enough love in my heart for you too. You are still worthy of all I have to give. You still matter to me. I might not be able to say it in front of the cameras, but I will say it to you every day until you believe it. I don’t care about the games. You’ve won my heart and it’s yours to keep as long as you want it.”

Hwitaek is bright red as Seungjun finishes. Something swells up in his chest as he surges forward to kiss him with all the feelings he can’t express. The feelings will come out later in lyrics, beats, and melodies, but for now, they are gasped against Seungjun’s lips, pressed against his cheek, and woven into his hair. And that’s enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: [Here's](https://youtu.be/GYJKPjk_uwM?t=714) the interview that this fic revolves around. Once again, this is entirely my own projection on this moment based on my own struggles with insecurity. Seungjun said exactly what he was supposed to say and there's nothing wrong with that, but I like reassurance, so I wanted to write a little extra. 
> 
> As always, you can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/belatedwannable) and [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/belatedwannable). I welcome comments and conversations!


End file.
